


Peach Pie

by etherically



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, rarepair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 20:51:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7479516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherically/pseuds/etherically
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whiskey has never been that good at socializing, and doesn't feel super comfortable with the Samwell Men's Hockey team. A spur-of-the-moment decision to go to movie night might help him out of his shell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach Pie

Whiskey’s phone buzzed beside him on his desk. He ignored it and continued doing his homework. It was right beside his calculator, which he kept having to use for the tedious calculations that his chemistry professor had included in the problem sets.  
As he reached for his calculator again, his phone buzzed a second time. And then three more times in quick succession. He squinted, wondering what this could possibly be about. Deciding to avoid talking to anyone at the moment, he ignored his phone once more.  
After he finished the problem he was on, his phone buzzed another couple times. Curiosity inevitably got the better of him and he woke his phone up to find a series of group texts from the hockey team.   
“everyone still up for movie night tonight?”  
“Hell yes!!”  
“as long as holster didnt pick”  
“u know u love my movies <3”  
“i think i smell pie”  
“I hope y’all like peach”  
“OMG”  
And then one direct message, from Bitty: “Hey you coming tonight? Havent seen you around lately”.  
Whiskey sighed. He’d completely forgotten about movie night. Not that he had originally planned to go, even though he didn’t have any other plans. He felt like he had to at least reply to Bitty’s text, though. Hardly anyone on the team texted him individually, which was probably part of the reason he felt so out of place with them. It seemed like everyone else had private conversations with each other, but Tony was the only one who talked to Whiskey specifically on any regular basis. This, of course, made Whiskey’s sense of belonging tank as all he could conclude from this was that no one on the team but Tony actually liked him enough to make contact with him more than coincidentally.   
Whiskey tried to brush away this train of thought, knowing it most likely his social anxiety talking. He looked at the text from Bitty again, and then to his homework. A movie night did sound better than toiling away at useless problem sets. Especially since his friends on the lacrosse team were out of town for a game. But going out was so much effort. And they would be eating too, which means that eventually he’d be too overstimulated from the sounds and have to leave anyway. It just wasn’t worth it.  
His phone buzzed again. He checked it, expecting to see another message from Bitty. Whiskey had to do a double take. That was most certainly not Bitty’s name on his phone. It wasn’t even Tony’s. It was Dex’s. Whiskey was utterly bewildered. Normally he prided himself on his ability to read people, but Dex had challenged this ability one more than one occasion. He seemed to always put up a prickly front. But he also always spoke up for himself, and for others if he saw fit. It was an ability that Whiskey found very admirable. The fact that he found Dex incredibly cute didn’t make it any easier for Whiskey to read him, either.  
His finger, shaking, hovered over the messenger app after he unlocked his phone. Unable to open it just yet, he put his phone down. Sighing, he closed his book and stood up, retrieving his pants from the bed and putting them on. He looked at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair and smoothing his shirt. He finally returned to his phone and opened the message quickly enough that he didn’t have time to think about it.  
“come to mov night” was all the text said.   
Whiskey sighed again. He opened the message from Bitty and sent a simple reply: “Sure”.  
As the message sent, another message came in, this time from Tony.  
“are you coming?? where have you been? want me to bring you some pie???”  
Whiskey smiled to himself as he left his room. He typed a reply: “im omw”.  
Immediately, Tony sent back “:)”.  
As he walked to the Haus, headphones in, Whiskey thought that maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad. At least he’d get food.   
He arrived a few minutes late, as he’d been planning so as to avoid awkward greetings, and slipped into the living room, where a movie was already running on screen.   
The boys were of course talking over the movie, chirping each other or heckling the actors as if it were a game, and so when someone noticed Whiskey had joined them – it was Holster – they couldn’t resist greeting him.  
“Bro! You came!”   
“Dude take a seat. It’s just getting good.”  
“How are you, man?”  
Whiskey forced a nervous nod and attempted a smile, eventually taking a seat next to Tony. Bitty waved gently at him from across the room, smiling brightly. 

After only a few minutes, a timer in the kitchen dinged. Bitty leapt up and the boys began an uproar of pie-related excitement. As they stood up to pounce on the pie before Bitty even had a chance to cut it, Whiskey backed out into the hallway out of the way of the passionate Samwell Men’s Hockey team.  
He let them stampede past him, then returned to his place on the floor in front of the TV. He stared at the paused movie, thinking about things while the team chattered and served themselves pie. Pulling out his phone, he sent a text to Bitty.  
“can i talk to you for a second?”  
After he heard a kind, twangy “excuse me, y’all,” from the kitchen, Bitty rejoined him in the living room.   
“What is it, Whiskey?” he said gently.  
Whiskey took a moment to speak, and when he did he did so very quietly.   
“I think,” Whiskey began, “I can trust you with this. I’m bi. Well, biromantic. Also asexual. I just… Wanted to tell someone.”  
Bitty smiled reassuringly. “I’m glad and flattered you felt comfortable enough telling me. I remember coming out a couple years ago. The first person I told was Shitty.”  
Whiskey snorted. “Really? The guy who was always half naked?” He had heard the stories, and definitely remembered Shitty’s enthusiasm at the game that he and Jack came to.  
“Yeah, really,” Bitty chuckled. “He was really good about it.”  
Whiskey just smiled and stared at his hands. That was enough talking for now, he figured.  
Bitty patted him on the back gently. “If you want any help telling anyone else, I’m here.”  
“Thanks,” Whiskey said, but declined to say anything else as the rest of the team stormed back into the room.   
Dex and Nursey were arguing about whether peach or apple pie was better as they came back in. While Nursey chirped Chowder about trying to get them to stop arguing, Dex made eye contact with Whiskey, who promptly tensed and looked away. Bitty, still sitting beside him, bumped his shoulder gently and gave him a questioning look. Whiskey coughed and shrugged as Tony sat on the other side of him.   
As the movie started back up, the boys grew mostly quiet, though a couple had some pie that they had yet to finish. The chewing sound started to get on Whiskey’s nerves, and he had to leave the room, saying he was going to the bathroom to cover it up. Instead, he went into the now empty kitchen and slumped into a chair.  
Socializing was such hard work, not to mention what he had just told Bitty. He was proud of himself, and scooped a small slice of pie that had been left over (somehow, even with the voracious team going at it) onto a plate. He ate slowly, savoring the flavor and the quiet. It wasn’t exactly planned – his coming out – but he wanted to tell someone at least.   
“Didn’t you say you were going to the bathroom?” a voice came from the doorway. Whiskey jumped a little, and turned to see Dex leaning against the doorframe. Whiskey looked away as Dex’s amber eyes bored into him, unwavering. He gestured to the pie, almost finished on his plate.   
“Leaving that for you was Bitty’s idea,” Dex commented, walking to a cupboard to get a glass and fill it with water. Whiskey watched him from the back, appreciating that he hadn’t commented on his lack of speech. He took another bite of pie.   
Dex turned and pulled out another chair at the table, sitting down to drink.   
“So what do you think?” he asked. Whiskey blinked, entirely unsure of what Dex was asking him. “I saw you watching Nursey and me arguing. Whose side are you on? Peach or apple?”  
Whiskey finished the bite of pie in his mouth and contemplated.   
“Peach,” he answered finally, quietly, trying to ignore the way the light danced on Dex’s freckles, contrasting the darkness outside; and the small smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.   
Dex finished his drink and put the glass down on the table as if a major discussion had just ended. He pointed a finger at Whiskey.  
“I like the way you think, Whiskey,” he said, then returned to the other room. Whiskey sat in silence as he heard an uproar from the (now quite drunk) team.  
He stuck his head in to see what the fuss was about, and immediately Nursey spotted him.  
“Dude, I’m not, like, bothered or anything,” he began, “but you know apple pie is better than peach right?”  
Whiskey’s brow furrowed.   
“What?”  
“Well, man, as a tie breaker you gotta consider that responsibility, you know?”  
Whiskey looked at Dex, who was wearing a satisfied grin. He gave Whiskey a thumbs up and a wink. Basically the cutest gesture that Whiskey could have hoped to see from Dex. He turned back to Nursey and replied.  
“Maybe if you weren’t dead wrong there’d be some actual responsibility to consider,” he chirped back, setting the team howling. Whiskey smirked to himself, proud of his forwardness. He began to think he might be able to fit in a little better. Bitty smiled serenely in the corner as Whiskey joined the team to watch the rest of the movie.  
The tadpoles walked back to their dorms together sleepily, Tango somewhat drunk and leaning on entirely sober Whiskey. As they separated, Whiskey’s phone buzzed. He looked at it after settling down for bed. It was a text from Dex.  
“want to come to the pond tomorrow?”  
Whiskey’s heart fluttered a little, and he couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or his crush, but either could have been equally likely.   
“sure”, he sent back, then fell asleep.

The next morning, Whiskey woke early and got ready to go out. It was easier than last night – maybe because it was the morning, or maybe because he felt like he was wanted, and not just for a whole-team gathering.   
A text from Dex was waiting on his phone.  
“meet at 11?”  
“sounds good” Whiskey replied.  
He looked at the clock and saw it was already almost 11. He had just enough time to get to the pond, and so he headed out.

When he arrived, Dex was already waiting on the shoreline. Chowder was there too, as well as Tony. Whiskey was only somewhat disappointed that Dex had invited others, but it was nice to have Tony there.   
“Yo,” Whiskey greeted the others. He noticed that Dex was holding what looked like a very old remote control boat. Whiskey side-eyed Dex as he asked, “What’s with the boat?”  
Chowder jumped in to answer before Dex could. “Dex fixed it and wanted to try it out!”   
“I found it in the basement of the Haus and thought it might be fun so I tried to fix it. Now I have to test it,” Dex elaborated.  
He took off his shoes and waded into the pond, setting the boat gently in the water. Whiskey watched intently. He’d be impressed if it worked. The thing definitely still looked broken.  
“Ooh! Can I try it?” Chowder asked excitedly.  
Dex handed over the remote. “Sure, but if it works and you break it again, I’m not gonna be the one fixing it.”  
Chowder kicked off his shoes and waded into the pond beside Dex, while Whiskey and Tango watched from the bank. The boat sputtered a couple times before starting back up and jetting off into the middle of the pond.  
“Jesus, slow down Chowder!” Dex warned, reaching for the remote.   
“I got it,” Chowder replied, tongue sticking out in concentration. He turned the boat around just before it hit a rock sticking out of the pond and brought it back to stop in front of Dex gracefully.   
“Whoa you really did fix it!” Tony exclaimed. “Can I try?”   
Chowder handed him the remote as he too waded into the pond.   
Dex came back to the shore and sat down in the grass, watching Chowder and Tony challenge each other with boat maneuvers. Whiskey sat beside him.  
“You wanna try?” Dex asked.  
Whiskey shrugged.   
Dex looked back out at the boat.  
Whiskey looked at Dex. He was smiling, and the sun bounced off his hair, seeming to light it aflame. Whiskey’s eyes traced down to Dex’s jawline and back up to his freckles. Dex suddenly turned to look at Whiskey, whose gaze immediately snapped back to the pond.  
“Where’d you learn to fix stuff?” he asked, trying to cover up ho he had been staring at Dex.  
“From an uncle of mine,” he replied, and Whiskey could hear a smile behind his words.  
“Fond memories?” Whiskey asked.  
Dex seemed taken aback, hesitating for a moment. “I mean, I guess?” he replied, smile falling from his lips. Whiskey blinked. He was sure he’d heard Dex’s tone correctly. He tilted his head.  
“’You guess’? You sounded happy,” Whiskey said, immediately wondering if that was a weird thing to say.  
Dex seemed amused. “Nah, that was something else. Don’t worry about it,” he added as Chowder and Tony came to join them in the grass.  
The afternoon was nice, as the group all went to eat lunch together after their feet and the boat had dried off. Whiskey stayed with the group as they ate, not as bothered by their chewing today. The dining hall was virtually empty as it was a weekend, and they continued to talk until Chowder had to go meet Farmer, and then Tony split off to finish some homework. Whiskey’s stomach rolled as his friend left him alone with Dex.   
Before Whiskey could attempt to dispel the awkward silence, Dex began to speak.  
“How’re you doing? I mean – well, you don’t hang out with the team much,” Dex said.  
Whiskey stared at him for a couple seconds before answering.  
“I’m… fine.”  
“That’s good! You uh, chirped Nursey pretty good last night,” he added, clearly feeling pretty awkward himself. “I never hear you chirp anyone.”  
Whiskey shrugged. “Seemed like the right thing to do.”  
Dex laughed awkwardly. “Well, it was unexpected for sure.”  
Whiskey looked around. The cafeteria was mostly empty, but not completely. He met Dex’s eyes for a second before looking away again.  
“Mind if we go somewhere else to talk?” Whiskey asked.   
Dex raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, sure, where?”  
“Just somewhere with less people.”  
Dex stood up and looked down at Whiskey. “Is my room okay?”  
Whiskey stared at him for another couple seconds.  
“Just – ‘cuz, it’s close by and. Yeah,” Dex floundered.  
Whiskey stood up and laughed a bit. “Okay.”

When they were in Dex’s room with the door closed, Whiskey burst out laughing.   
“Uh,” Dex said, confused, “Whiskey? Are you okay?”  
Whiskey quieted himself, embarrassed at his outburst. Dex’s ears were bright red.   
“Yeah, I just,” Whiskey began, fumbling his words. “I just think it’s funny. I’m – not good at interacting with people. But you’re kind of like me, aren’t you?”  
Dex’s face flushed, and he couldn’t make eye contact with Whiskey. “I think I’m okay at it! I just don’t know what to say a lot!”  
Whiskey gave him a small smile. “Thanks for inviting me today. I… really appreciate it.”  
Dex was still flushing. But he smiled too.  
“Uh, yeah,” he replied. “I figured since you looked like you were having fun last night, y’know. And I thought maybe since you hang out with Tango sometimes, you’d be more comfortable with him there, and – I dunno. Thanks for coming today I guess.”  
As the color in Dex’s cheeks calmed down, Whiskey considered the amount of thought that Dex had apparently had about this and was surprised but appreciated it. He was so much more thoughtful than Whiskey had originally understood him to be, and unfortunately this just made him all the more attractive.   
“I like you,” Whiskey said quietly, without thinking. Dex turned to look at him. Whiskey’s gaze snapped away as a furious blush rose onto his cheeks.   
“What?” Dex prodded.  
“Never mind,” Whiskey turned away from Dex entirely and put his gaze to the floor, not wanting Dex to see the blush he felt.  
“Did you say you like me?” Dex prompted, stepping closer to Whiskey, and Whiskey was sure he heard a smile behind the words again.  
Whiskey turned around slowly, and, without looking at Dex, let out a small “yeah.”   
“You’re, uh, cute.” Dex said, prompting another flush of Whiskey’s cheeks. He looked up at Dex, who was standing pretty close, and saw that he was blushing too. “Mind if I, uh,” Dex began, looking at Whiskey’s lips and trailing off as his hand came to rest on Whiskey’s cheek.  
Whiskey shook his head – no, he didn’t mind – and Dex leaned in for a clumsy but gentle kiss, and Whiskey leaned back into him.   
He decided he could probably get used to this team.

**Author's Note:**

> First fic I've written in years so this was an experience for me. 
> 
> DexWhiskey is cute and I'm glad I considered it after seeing williamjessicapoindexter's post about it. This ended up way longer than I intended though oops
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at etherically.tumblr.com and I love to chat! <3


End file.
